


Hanging from a Web

by BraTwo (orphan_account)



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Capture, Character Death, Gore, M/M, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-24
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 00:13:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/301632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/BraTwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We caught you. You’re all ours now…"</p><p>Peter Parker wakes up bruised, confused and trapped. Hanging from a rafter, he's not sure how he got there. But the room he's trapped inside is hiding secrets. And a visitor is on their way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Captured

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my room-mate

_Look at what we’ve found…_

Peter Parker attempted to lift his head with a groan, the muscles in his neck taught and sore. His eyes slowly scanned around the room, trying to find the source of the noise that had woken him up. It took him a few confusing moments to realise that he wasn’t in his bedroom. He wasn’t in his bed. He wasn’t even lying down.

His arms were pinned down to his sides, nails digging into his thighs so hard they’d gone through his costume. Or maybe those rips had been in the suit beforehand? From what he could see, there were tears all over, the contours of his muscles just visible through the gaps. He was missing a boot and his entire left arm of the suit. His skin was covered in bruises.

 _Wait for us… Almost home…_

He was dirty too and the air in the room was musty, almost claustrophobic. It stank too- of something almost familiar. As he tried to breathe, dust filled his lungs, causing him to cough hard- which only hurt his aching neck more. His hair felt like it was stuck to his temples, wet with sweat, and as he came to, more and more parts of his body started to ache. His lip was cut, maybe his cheek too.  Whatever was holding his arms down was digging into his wrists and around his back. It was wrapped around his feet too and as he tried to move, his whole body started to swing.

 _Pretty, little thing…_

That was when Peter Parker realised he was suspended in mid-air. That was probably why his neck hurt so much- if he’d been this way for a long time. He was hanging from the rafters of what looked to be an old church. Maybe not though. There wasn’t much in the room besides a couple of garbage bags tossed into the corner, covered in some kind of black, wet-looking moss, and a single rotting desk in the corner by a blackboard. Oh. A school then? Whatever it was, it hadn’t been used in years.  Everything was dirty.

 _Bringing you a present for being good. So good._

There was broken glass on the floor and some sort of cloth just underneath him. It took him a few moments in the dim light to figure out that it was his mask. The fabric was ripped, one eye completely missing.  He was in pieces everywhere.

His head ached and he had to shut his eyes as the room started to spin. How had he gotten here?

 _You’re just for us…_

He tried to remember where he had last been; who he’d been with. He could only remember a flash of red hair, the smell of perfume, and it was enough to make his guts ache. He tried to say Mary-Jane’s name, but his throat wouldn’t co-operate. He felt like he was being strangled.

 _We caught you. You’re all ours now…_

Suddenly there that noise again, like someone with wet shoes was dragging their way up a set of steps. The heavy thumps were what had woken him. The whole building creaked and he tried to move his arms, to maybe break out of the black ropes tying him there, but he didn’t have to energy to do anything but wait. He listened to the strain of the floor boards just outside the door and heard heaving, wet breathing as the thing paused.

Slowly the door started to swing open and a shadow filled the doorway.

 _What we’ve wanted for such a long time…_


	2. Consumed

_[The voices were whispering in the back of Eddie’s head again…]_

The black figure of Venom barely managed to squeeze through the door. The wooded frame actually fractured up towards the ceiling and a few pieces of crumbling plaster fell behind into Venom’s wet footprints as the monster moved into the room.  

The symbiote was restless tonight. Eddie could feel it moving over his muscles, clinging to him but bubbling at the surface, like a child longing to run outside and play. And it wanted to play so badly; because Eddie had brought them their favourite toy.

But no. They would wait. Things were always better when you waited. Always tasted better, felt better, _broke better_ -

Venom’s large arms were burdened with something, clawed hands pointed up to keep it steady against his shoulder. A pair of feet hung down by the white spider symbol on his chest, moving up and down slowly with the fierce, deep pants of his lungs.  The feet were dirty and cut, covered by tan tights that had been ripped all over.

Peter Parker felt his body freeze, gaze traveling up the legs. They were old, with purple varicose veins indicating their fond use for several years. There was a cut on the back of the woman’s thigh (because these were definitely a woman’s slim legs) and then the skin disappeared underneath a blue skirt. The skirt was stained with droplets of blood, and as Peter took in the rest of this woman’s outfit- and the soft, blonde hair on the back of her head that was matted with blood- he felt like being sick.

He thrashed in the ropes keeping him bound. “What the fuck have you done?!” he demanded, voice cracked and raw, but he strained to get it out. He needed to. Who could stay quiet when something like this happened? “Put her down. You’d better not have hurt her-!”

Venom’s black face opened up, grinning widely at Peter’s discomfort, “Did we do something wrong?” he asked, tongue slipping out from between his dark, razor-like teeth. “We never meant to upset you.”

With a shift of his shoulder, Venom dumped his present in front of Peter’s feet. Aunt May hit the ground without any resistance. Her eyes were open, frozen in some kind of lost, confused expression. She probably hadn’t even had the time to realise what was happening to her.

Peter’s body shook hard; staring down at the woman who had helped raised him, who had kept him safe. She had never asked to get involved in this sort of thing. He had never told her that he was Spiderman. He’d never told her his biggest secret. It was like she’d never really known him as he’d gotten older, and now she never would.

Blood had dripped down her throat and stained the front of her white blouse. Her mouth was open wide, the two halves of her jaws ripped apart. Her cheeks were torn across, up to her ears, and there were cuts in the upper pallet of her mouth- the rimmed surface facing up towards Peter at an impossible angle.

“We only tried to make her stop screaming,” Venom whispered, shifting closer still to the trapped spider. “So noisy, we said, calm down. Never calm, though. They’re never calm when they see us.” He laughed from right inside his chest, tossing his large head back and bellowing it out. Oh. He was having so much fun!

Only the skin at the back of Aunt May’s throat was keeping the top of her head attached, her tongue stretched out towards the sky, a thick lump of muscle going nowhere.

Peter screamed, leaning back to try and desperately escape it, but his restraints kept him firmly in place. He knew he’d never get that sight out of his mind again. Venom reached a large hand over his head and tugged Peter so he was almost upset down; his faces inches away from his aunt’s destroyed one. The black web around his body pulled tight, constricting in on his body like a snake and he choked, blood swimming straight to his head.

 “Go on,” Venom whispered, grinning and leaning right against Peter’s ear. His breath was hot and it felt like it was travelling right down to Peter’s brain, infecting him. “Give her a kiss!”

Peter couldn’t help it. His stomach emptied out onto the ground.

Venom’s grin grew and he let go of the other’s restraint, letting Peter’s body swing back into an upright position. The brown haired man coughed, spitting out globs of vomit that had been trapped behind his teeth. His eyes were wet and he was glad he was crying- even if it was showing his weakness to Venom. But what could the other do now? How could Venom even _try_ to hurt him further?

The black figure in front of him chuckled, tongue sliming around the rim of Peter’s earlobe and biting down hard on it. Venom tugged his mouth away and Peter slowly felt his flesh rip. Venom could have done it quickly, but dragging out the sensation- to watch it all flash on Peter’s face- that was better than any quick scream could ever be.

“Oh Spider,” the long, thick tongue slid out and licked up the torn mess of Peter’s ear, ripping the last piece free. Peter gave a small cry, feeling the blood down his neck, and watched the monster swallow. He could practically hear the piece of flesh sizzle away inside the creature’s gut. “We can do a lot more to hurt you. Just wait and see.” [ _We can read your mind.]_

The symbiote lashed out from Venom’s chest, cutting the strand holding Peter up. The spider crumpled to the ground with a cry of pain. His face landed in the blood soaked chest of his Aunt and his first reaction was to roll away, shifting his feet up together to kick her corpse away. It wasn’t his aunt anymore. He couldn’t hold attachment to the broken pieces of what was left. Not if he wanted to escape here alive.

But did he?

“What’s wrong, Spider? Not having fun anymore?” Venom cooed, reaching down and digging his nails into the other’s spine, “Humans are so easy to crack open. What kind of surprises they have inside them~ Delicious surprises. Can you guess what kind of surprises I’ve found tonight?”

Venom dragged Peter up with ease. His hands were so large that one alone could squeezed around his waist, choking his organs. The nails dug in deeper to his back and, en-mass, Venom started to walk them away from the window, into the darker part of the room. “I can feel your spine, Spider,” Venom groaned, pulling Peter back against him, breathing into the injured man’s neck and his tongue snaking out. It stroked the bruises on the flesh, climbing up towards the other’s mouth and rubbing itself against the scab over Peter’s lip, causing it to bleed again.

Peter’s lips shivered under the touch and he gave a soft sob, because his aunt’s blood was over his face and as they got closer to the garbage bags… he realised that’s not what they were, and that the familiar smell from before was blood. A lot of it. Shiny and congealed, it coated every inch of his friends as they lay, dull and limp in the corner- like they’d been dumped to be dealt with later. Like rubbish. Like Peter had thought. He’d thought his best friends were just bags of garbage…

Eddie felt the suit vibrate over his skin, lusting hard for the Spider as it was pressed against their body _. Want, want, want…_ The room was heavy with the scent of the small Spider, and the symbiote wanted nothing more than to taint it; rub their scent all over it. So that people knew who he belonged to.

Slowly pieces of the suit began to pull away from Eddie, wrapping around the Spider’s thighs and rubbing circles into the tight muscles. One slid up underneath his costume, sucking itself to his abdomen like it was trying to suck the blood out of him, dragging it to the surface for a taste.

Peter groaned in pain, leaning his head back against Venom’s shoulder and shutting his eyes tightly.

“Look, Spider,” Venom was gasping for breath, more and more of the symbiote wrapping around Peter as the seconds ticked past. One slid between his legs, creeping against the pucker of muscles at his rectum. He tensed, trying to pull himself away from the symbiote. He wasn’t sure if it knew anything about sex. Maybe Eddie had trained it. He seemed like the kind of guy to be concerned about that kind of stuff…

Venom growled hard against his shoulder, digging his teeth down until it hit bone. “Look Spider! Look at what we did for you!”

Mary-Jane was on top of the pile. Peter’s eyes were shaking as he gazed down, her red hair spread behind her shoulders. She never liked to lie on it like that. It hurt. She’d told him before. But there she was… Her shirt was missing, her pale breasts tilted to the side to touch her inner elbows. Her rose nipples were stained dark with blood, her ribcage cracked open. The entire inside of her torso was exposed. The black slimy liquid over her insides was congealed blood and cum. Peter thought he might vomit again at the idea of Venom’s large bulk fucking her insides… He tried to burn the image away. Some of her ribs were broken, and several more snapped as Venom kicked her body to the side. She slumped into the wall, guts spilling out over the floor. Peter felt like his heart was going to burst.

Underneath, Harry was face down. Their backs would have been against each other. Harry was wearing all this clothes and for a moment, Peter thought he was just dead. Maybe not even dead… maybe just unconscious. Maybe Venom had failed. Harry had come through injuries before. He could make it through, and Peter could make it through with him as well…

But his best friend wasn’t breathing. And on closer inspection, as Venom shoved Peter down to his knees, Harry’s head wasn’t connected to his body. His spine has been torn out, pieces of flesh still stuck to it as it poked out from the mess that was his neck. His oesophagus was like a thin, collapsed tube inside his neck, hanging out on the floor. His eyes were shut, clenched together like he’d been screaming when it had happened. Peter couldn’t imagine that anyone could have not screamed.

Underneath Harry’s shirt were large patches of blood around his elbows and knees. Venom leant over Peter’s back, tongue pushing through the other’s sweaty, wet hair and flicking down at his forehead. He could hear the other’s pants right against his ear, and wouldn’t care if the fucking monster bit off his head. “Poor Osborne cried as we crushed his arms and legs. He kept trying to escape. Wanted to keep him for you. Thought he could play as well _, Petey_ -” He laughed. “We can call you _Petey_ now, yes? No one else is going to. We quite _like_ it.” Mary-Jane certainly wasn’t going to be talking any time soon.

The black wires of the symbiote around Peter’s body forced him over, tearing at what was left of his suit, like a child grabbing at a Christmas present. Peter’s hands and feet were freed, but he was pinned down further from behind, Venom’s large frame arching up against him. He knelt over his friend, elbows pushing down on the mass of Harry’s back, shaking with the force, and he heard bones crack underneath him. He didn’t want to hurt his friend more, even if he could no longer feel it. Pushed over harder, Peter had to spread his hands down, pushing on Harry’s elbows… or what should have been his elbows. Peter’s hands went straight to the floor, in puddles of sticky flesh. Harry’s arms had been pulled off just like his head, and Peter could guess that the same thing had happened to his legs.

Peter coughed and dry-heaved over his friend’s body, the stench of death too close to bare. Why had he ever brought his friends into this? Well… they weren’t really in it anymore, were they? They’d suffered enough.

The symbiote grew impatient and pulled Peter’s legs apart. His foot slid into Mary-Jane’s guts, but he barely had enough time to hurl again before Venom’s body slid up against him hard. The black symbiote wriggled, flicking at Peter’s anus and then shoving inside, crawling through his guts and dragging Peter down.

He screamed, because the pain was worse than any punch to the face he’d received. It was like the symbiote was eating him alive, determined to rip him apart and humiliate him. Bent over the corpses of his friend, Peter slowly felt himself give in. What kind of life was there after this? What would people say if they found his body, violated and limp over the mess of his old friends? They’d take off his mask, know everything about him. But he’d be dead. They could say anything they wanted. He wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t even know.

It felt like it lasted a lifetime, but eventually Venom pulled free of him, leaving his muscles gaping open, black tar still stuck inside him. He gasped, breath catching in his throat. He felt like he had been rubbed all over with sandpaper, body on fire. His aching limbs shook hard but still he struggled forward, pulling himself from the corpses. Well, it was more like a rolling sensation.

The symbiote came with him, clinging around his elbows and then slowly starting to drag him to stand. Peter’s legs weren’t cooperating. They felt totally numb and for a moment he thought of poor Flash- who had no legs at all.

Venom’s large face was in front of him now, tongue sliding down his throat and choking him. He coughed hard, yanking his head back and trying to kick the other. The anger in his stomach flared up. Dirty, humiliated and abused he tried to communicate with his attacker; demand an explanation. “W-what have you done?” he shuddered, feeling his body throb. “Eddie-”

Venom frowned, gripping him harder and shoving him against the chalkboard, his nose crunching flat under the impact. His tears and the blood from his face slid down the board as he was dragged back. “There is no Eddie!” the monster hissed, “Only Venom! Only us!”

Peter gritted his teeth through the pain and couldn’t think of anything else he had to lose. He felt cum slip down the back of his thighs, mixed with blood. His insides were tainted. If he died now, he’d only be with the people littered in pieces around the floor… Might as well go out with a bang.  “Hardly!” he forced a laugh, guts aching. “You’re just an ugly guy attached to an even uglier alien! You’re nothing underneath that slime! Just a pathetic, washed up cunt!”

Venom’s body started to shake with fury. “Play time is over, Spider!” he snapped, “It’s time to take what’s _ours_!”

Peter could guess what was coming, but the fight had gone out of him. Fuck it. Let the alien have him. Who was he supposed to be staying sane for anyway? Three dead bodies? He shut his puffy eyes and felt the shadow of Venom melt over his face.

Quickly, the symbiote gave into its needs. It peeled away from its current host like a plaster and underneath Eddie Brock was an infected wound, crumpling to the ground in a haze, the room spinning around him. He grasped for something to hold onto- finding the ankle of Harry Osborne. As he tugged, the limb finally broke away from its joint, sliding over the floor. The blonde man’s eyes widened as he realised what he was gripping, holding his breath and shutting his eyes to prevent himself from being sick. The whole room stank of death. Had he done this?

When he was brave enough to open his eyes again, he caught the symbiote folding over Peter Parker’s dirty, tear-soaked and bloodied face, trapping him away from the rest of the world. The black mass rubbed against his body, folding around every curve until he was left standing alone as the black Spiderman, head tilted to the sky. Then he turned to look at Eddie.

No longer needed, the symbiote made quick work of the large man- but not nearly as creatively as it had disposed of everyone else whilst still attached to Eddie. But that was okay. Showmanship was nothing. The symbiote knew that it belonged with Peter. It could feel the other’s broken heart beating away, the man’s subconscious easily pushed to the side to let the alien take over.

As the symbiote flexed the Spider’s fingers it gave a groan, squeezing tight around its host’s ribs. Here it was again…

 _Home Sweet Home._


End file.
